Old bones
from fertile soil,
grown and aged in sun and rain,
disappointment and joy.
Old bones
weathered, wind shaped,
touched by nature, nurtured by time.
Old bones
wearing each other out
by daily use and common purpose.
Old bones
arthritic with life’s dust
and memories
returning to dust
to dust
ashes
to ashes
and the comfort
of a shoulder to lean on.
1 comment:
Beautiful image and a touching verse. You are indeed a fine word sculptor, my friend.
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